Refugees

Ramallah, occupied West Bank – Every day, Fuad Abu Salam sips his morning coffee outside his rented home in the Thinnabeh suburb, gazing at every detail of the sprawling Tulkarem refugee camp in front of him. This West Bank camp he can see in the distance once housed a two-storey building comprising four apartments, each measuring 300 square metres (3,229sq feet), in which he and his extended family lived.

After he was displaced from the camp, he, his wife, his four children, and his mother were confined to a small, rented apartment no bigger than 100sq metres (1,076sq feet) in Thinnabeh. His home in Tulkarem was partially destroyed when he left the camp.

Everything changed for Fuad and his family on January 21, 2025, when Israel launched a military assault in the occupied West Bank dubbed “Iron Wall”, initially targeting the Jenin refugee camp. A week later, the operation expanded to include the Tulkarem and Nur Shams camps in the city of Tulkarem.

Israeli forces forcibly displaced the entire populations of the three camps during January and February 2025 and continue to prevent their return, the United Nations has said.

Mass displacement

Data from UNRWA cited in a report titled, Destruction of Palestinian Refugee Camps in the Northern West Bank, stated that 33,362 Palestinians remain forcibly displaced from the three camps. By October 2025, 52 percent of structures in the Jenin camp, 48 percent in the Nur Shams camp, and 36 percent in the Tulkarem camp had been destroyed or damaged.

The Israeli operation has affected hundreds of homes, roads, and infrastructure, including water and electricity networks, while humanitarian aid to the camps has been cut off.

Israeli forces killed 102 Palestinians, including 21 children, during the period covered, according to the report. This represents 46 percent of the total number of Palestinians killed by Israeli forces in the West Bank during this period.

On Sunday, the Israeli Supreme Court ordered the government to provide a timeline for the return of displaced people to the three camps, setting November 23 as a deadline for a response.

Israel’s far-right Finance Minister Bezalel Smotrich rejected the ruling, warning that the return of residents could allow for the reconstruction of what he termed “terror infrastructure”. He called on the government not to implement the decision.

Meanwhile, Israeli Defence Minister Israel Katz opposed the court’s intervention, asserting that the army’s continued presence in the camps was a security decision and stating his intention to maintain a military presence there.

Fuad, 42, a greenhouse installer, found himself forced to flee with all the camp’s other residents and more than 40 family members. But he and his neighbours carried with them the hope of returning home.

They moved between the homes of relatives, enduring harsh living conditions, until he finally settled in the Thinnabeh suburb of Tulkarem.

The neighbourhood, which overlooks the camp, has “restored his spirit” because he can see his home even if it’s from afar. Although he is unable to reach the building, he can gaze at it and imagine a time when he can return.

“If a decision were issued right now allowing us to return, I would go back immediately without a moment’s hesitation,” he said.

But his home is no longer what it used to be. It was partially demolished and set on fire by Israeli soldiers, rendering more than 80 percent of the apartment block uninhabitable. Fuad plans to use the rubble to rebuild his home.

“I will never waver in my resolve to return, even if it means pitching a tent over the ruins and living there,” he declared.

Mohamad Ararawi, 18, from the Jenin refugee camp, also saw his home razed to the ground with a wide road replacing it.

He told Al Jazeera that his family of 40, who had lived in a five-story building in the al-Damaj neighbourhood, all fled the camp when the Israeli military operation began, seeking shelter in homes belonging to other relatives.

“My mother, father, five sisters, and I took refuge in my brother’s unfinished apartment. We endured harsh conditions, suffering through biting cold and scorching heat, before gradually completing the construction until it became somewhat habitable,” he added.

Returning is all that matters to them, and they refuse to live anywhere but the camp, even if it lacks basic amenities.

A near-impossible return

Returning the displaced back to their homes is not merely an issue of clearing roads for residents. Returning would mean living in a camp in which infrastructure has been damaged and hundreds of homes destroyed, all amid a lack of necessities.

Nihad Shawish, a member of the Nur Shams Camp Popular Services Committee, told Al Jazeera that the scale of destruction makes the residents’ return fraught with immense difficulties, despite their will to go back to their homes.

Approximately 400 homes, most of them three to four stories high, were destroyed, he said, while about 100 homes were burned down during the Israeli army’s presence in the camp.

Even the ones that survived are not necessarily habitable; they sustained severe damage affecting doors, windows, and interior facilities. The collapse of some buildings has also damaged neighbouring homes.

Approximately 10,900 camp residents remain displaced, including families staying in private homes and others at a school in the Thinnabeh suburb.

Faisal Salameh, an official with the Tulkarem Camp Popular Committee, told Al Jazeera that more than 2,000 housing units were completely destroyed, while approximately 90 per cent of the camp’s homes sustained partial damage, rendering them uninhabitable.

“Israel has turned the camp into an environment that drives residents away, given the widespread destruction and the ban on reconstruction in certain areas that have been converted into roads,” he noted.

Despite these conditions, Salameh said that displaced residents are eager to return to the camp as soon as a decision by the Israeli government permits them to.

The camp was home to approximately 15,000 people. The majority of the displaced currently live in rented homes or with relatives, while others have sought shelter in schools, mosques, or makeshift tin shacks.

Israeli rejection

While the Israeli Supreme Court’s ruling opens the door to discussing the return of displaced persons to camps in the northern West Bank, its rejection by Israeli government ministers raises questions about whether it will be implemented. Until then, the lives of the displaced families remain in limbo.

Mohamad Halaseh, an expert on Israeli affairs, told Al Jazeera that the Israeli right-wing isn’t just trying to alter the structure of the judicial system, but also seeking to undermine its legitimacy and exert pressure on judges.

He explained that the effect of political stances is evident in the disregard for Supreme Court rulings. He cites the issue of Palestinian prisoner visitations, a case in which the state failed to comply with the court’s decisions, as one example of this.

“The continued disregard for court rulings undermines the judiciary’s ability to compel the government to act when judicial decisions conflict with the stance of the political leadership,” he said.

Several precedents make the implementation of court rulings on the camps unlikely, he said. This is particularly distressing for residents who also face strong Israeli political opposition to the return of Palestinians to the three camps.

“Declared political stances set a limit on the extent to which executive institutions comply with judicial rulings,” he said.

New restrictions have stripped Medicaid coverage from certain legal immigrants, including refugees and victims of human trafficking, as part of broader federal changes to the health insurance program that are expected to force millions off their coverage.

The change effective Oct. 1 cut from Medicaid what is estimated to be hundreds of thousands of people who legally immigrated to the United States, many of whom work and pay taxes, in the latest Trump administration policy to target foreigners.

The move is part of sweeping changes to Medicaid under President Donald Trump’s 2025 tax cut and policy law, with many set to take effect early next year. The Medicaid changes are projected to result in 7.5 million fewer people with health insurance, according to the Congressional Budget Office’s 2025 estimate.

Advocates say that without Medicaid, people will not be able to afford private insurance and will either delay care or end up in emergency rooms, adding pressure to a strained health system. For immigrants, the cuts could be felt more acutely, compounding the effects of other administration efforts to restrict their access to public assistance as part of a broader immigration crackdown.

“This is about telling every immigrant in the United States that they are not welcome here and that they should leave,” said Ben D’Avanzo, a senior strategist at the National Immigration Law Center, which has pursued litigation against the Republican administration over its immigration agenda.

Refugees, asylum seekers, victims of human trafficking and domestic violence are among those who have lost coverage. Green-card holders were not impacted.

Lauren Bis, a White House spokesperson, said in a statement that “immigrants must be able to support themselves without taking from overburdened benefits programs paid for by hard-working American taxpayers.”

D’Avanzo said many people who have lost coverage will likely only realize when they need medical care. But for some, the change has been felt immediately.

Dwindling supplies of lifesaving medication

In Tucson, Arizona, María Chacon has been caring for her son Jesus for almost five years since a car accident at 17 left him unable to breathe on his own. He requires a ventilator, a feeding tube and daily medication, and must be turned once every two hours to stop sores from forming. Chacon said he sometimes opens his eyes.

The family is originally from Mexico and entered the U.S. on a T visa, offered to victims of human trafficking, in 2018.

Chacon said Medicaid has helped cover almost $25,000 per month of care for her son, which includes a small stipend for her and her husband as compensation for being long-term caregivers. She said doctors have explained that even if they both worked 24 hours a day, they would not be able to cover the cost of his care.

“Since that day I haven’t been able to sleep. We haven’t been able to eat or anything. We’re wondering what we’re going to do?” Chacon said.

Jesus takes medication that Chacon estimates costs $7,000 a month. The supply runs out in mid-October. Without coverage, she does not know how her son is going to survive.

Chacon found out just days before the cuts that she was losing care. She called the state’s Medicaid offices to appeal. Although she is in the process of obtaining a green card, Medicaid coverage would only kick in five years after she is approved.

Steven Camarota, research director for the Center for Immigration Studies, a right-leaning think tank that seeks less immigration, said the administration “is trying to nibble around the edges” with the Oct. 1 cuts, finding piecemeal ways to curb immigration into the U.S.

Camarota believes the government should screen legal immigrants for income potential and education, reducing the number who might rely on public benefits once they cross the border.

“You need immigrants who are unlikely to need welfare,” he said, or those with high educational attainment.

The administration recently revived a federal rule that could deny green cards to immigrants who use public benefits that could include food stamps, Medicaid, housing vouchers and others.

Chacon believes the cuts to Medicaid coverage are part of the administration’s clampdown on immigrants. She said her son is in no condition to travel.

“I know that’s what he’s doing, but, as my son is, I couldn’t go to Mexico,” Chacon said.

Millions more will be dropped from Medicaid

Medicaid, jointly funded by states and the federal government, has become a political focal point during Trump’s second term. The president has pushed to root out what he describes as fraud in the program. In July, the administration deferred over $1 billion in Medicaid payments to California and Minnesota, claiming there was suspected fraud; critics argued the move targeted Democratic-led states.

As more people are cut from Medicaid, the federal government is predicted to reduce program spending by $911 billion, according to healthcare research nonprofit KFF.

In Arizona, officials said 29,000 legal immigrants were cut from Medicaid rolls on Oct. 1. In Florida, estimates are closer to 177,000. Overall, more than 281,000 immigrants from nine states and the District of Columbia are estimated to lose Medicaid coverage, according to KFF.

As more states implement various restrictions to coverage, 7.5 million people are expected to lose coverage by 2034, according to analysis by the Congressional Budget Office.

Without coverage, people will turn to emergency rooms for care. When people delay seeing a doctor, conditions can worsen and become even more expensive to treat.

“At the end of the day, it does raise the cost for the states because once you get these people in for something that could have been prevented, they could not go to the doctor because they were uninsured; they most likely will end up at a hospital in an emergency room,” said Carmen Feliciano, the vice president of policy and advocacy at UnidosUS, a Latino civil rights organization.

UnidosUS partners with community organizations to help provide medical care, but Feliciano said they already are overwhelmed and would not be able to support the number of people who are going to lose medical coverage in the coming months.

“We are not going to have the capacity to serve all the people who need it,” Feliciano said.

Schuettler and Hussein write for the Associated Press.

At least 10 civilians were killed in West Kordofan and 5,500 displaced in Blue Nile as clashes widened on Tuesday.

Sudan’s military chief, Abdel Fattah al-Burhan, has promised to seize “every inch” of territory under the control of the paramilitary Rapid Support Forces (RSF), rejecting negotiations to end three and a half years of war.

Al-Burhan made the comments on Tuesday while addressing a gathering in Village 5, located in the northern Sudanese locality of Merowe, according to the Sudan News Agency.

He said the “military option” would continue until the RSF was removed from Sudan.

The Sudanese army and the RSF have been fighting since April 2023 after leaders of the groups fell out over plans to integrate the paramilitary force into Sudan’s army. The conflict has killed tens of thousands of people and displaced around 13 million, according to UN and international estimates.

Al-Burhan’s pledge to continue fighting came as 10 civilians were killed and several others were wounded in an attack by the RSF in Sudan’s West Kordofan state, according to a local charity group.

In a statement, the Dar Hamar Emergency Committee accused the RSF of multiple violations against civilians in Abu Ajal village in the southeastern countryside of En Nahud.

The RSF has been massing in West Kordofan as Sudan’s army advances towards the cities of En Nahud and Al Khuway after gains in neighbouring North Kordofan.

In Sudan’s Blue Nile state, more than 5,500 people were displaced from villages over three days amid deteriorating security, the International Organization for Migration (IOM) said on Tuesday.

Meanwhile, an envoy of US President Donald Trump said Sudanese parties must take the lead in talks to end the war.

In a post on X on Monday, Massad Boulos, the US senior adviser for Arab and African affairs, said peace could be achieved “through an inclusive Sudanese-owned and Sudanese-led national dialogue, transition toward a civilian-led government”.

The US State Department said last month that neither the Sudanese Armed Forces, the RSF, nor their respective leaders “represent legitimate, constitutional governance for Sudan”.

Malaysia continues mass refugee deportations despite warnings from the UN about unsafe conditions in an active war zone.

Nearly 1,500 Myanmar refugees and migrants deported from Malaysia have arrived in their war-ravaged country under an opaque repatriation scheme heavily criticised by human rights groups and the United Nations refugee agency.

The 1,479 returnees, transported from Malaysia on board two navy warships and a hospital ship on Tuesday, arrived in southern Yangon early Sunday, Nay Lin Tun, a regional government minister, said.

They are among 5,000 Myanmar nationals who will be repatriated in stages from Malaysia, where more than 10,300 others are being held in immigration detention centres, according to the country’s Home Ministry.

Malaysia insists all returnees agreed to voluntary repatriation, but rights monitors have raised concerns that Myanmar refugees had little choice and warned that conditions for return remain unsafe.

The UN refugee agency said this past week that its staff were not allowed to meet the Myanmar nationals to confirm whether their decisions to return “were genuinely free and informed”.

Rohingya make up the majority of Myanmar refugees and asylum seekers in Malaysia, but it remains unclear how many members of the persecuted Rohingya are among the returned group.

The deportation was carried out during escalating raids on refugee communities in Malaysia by immigration officials, which led to the detention of more than 50,000 refugees in 2026.

Malaysian Prime Minister Anwar Ibrahim announced the repatriations in July against a backdrop of rising xenophobia towards refugees, particularly the Rohingya.

Kuala Lumpur is moving ahead with plans to return a second group of more than 3,500 refugees and migrants, saying they have caused financial, social and security burdens.

While Malaysia is not a party to the UN Refugee Convention and treats refugees as undocumented migrants, it is home to about 215,600 refugees and asylum seekers registered with the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR).

This includes more than 126,000 mainly Muslim Rohingya refugees.

Myanmar pledged last month that returns will be “safe and dignified”.

But Yap Lay Sheng, a senior human rights specialist with Fortify Rights, told the AFP news agency: “There’s no telling how the regime would treat returnees.”

Myanmar has been accused of committing genocide against the Rohingya Muslim minority. Earlier this year, the International Court of Justice (ICJ) opened its first genocide case it has heard in full in more than a decade.

The UNHCR and rights groups said returnees could face persecution and forced military conscription in an active war zone. Myanmar has been embroiled in a civil war since the military seized power from the elected government in 2021.

The war has killed more than 100,000 people since the coup, according to the Armed Conflict Location and Event Data (ACLED) project.

Myanmar’s Min Aung Hlaing, the military coup leader who was installed as civilian president in April, is expected to visit Malaysia soon to discuss the repatriation scheme.

Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia – The phone hasn’t stopped ringing in recent days. Raf*, a leader of refugees from Myanmar who are living in Malaysia, receives more than 100 calls a day, and they follow a common pattern.

“They are crying, asking me to do something,” Raf told Al Jazeera.

The Malaysian government on Tuesday deported nearly 1,500 refugees, part of its stated plan to send back at least 5,000 refugees as part of a deal with the military government of Myanmar. That move, from a country that had long taken in the refugees, has sparked fear among the tens of thousands of other refugees from Myanmar in the country, who have one question at the top of their minds: Who might be next?

The deportation was carried out during escalating raids on refugee communities by immigration officials, which have led to the detention of more than 50,000 refugees this year alone. Those working with refugees in Malaysia said the frequency of the raids has increased since June when Prime Minister Anwar Ibrahim announced the repatriation agreement with Myanmar.

“[We’ve seen] a sharp increase. Raids are happening every single day. There’s up to 50 raids or more happening every day,” said Heidy Quah, founder and executive director of the Malaysian nonprofit Refuge for the Refugees.

Minister of Home Affairs Saifuddin Nasution told local media that the government has conducted more than 9,700 such operations from the beginning of this year until September 17. That’s an average of 37 operations a day.

There are now more than 10,000 Myanmar nationals in Malaysia’s immigration depots, according to the Ministry of Home Affairs.

In all, Malaysia is home to more than 215,000 refugees, according to the Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR). Nearly 194,000 are from Myanmar. There are more than 126,000 Rohingya refugees in Malaysia, where they have been the target of widespread hate speech on social media in recent months. Apart from the Rohingya, the Myanmar refugees in Malaysia include nearly 16,000 from the Chin community and 33,000 from other Myanmar communities. The non-Myanmar refugees in Malaysia include small numbers of Pakistanis, Yemenis, Somalis, Afghans, Syrians, Sri Lankans, Palestinians and Iraqis.

The Myanmar refugee community in Malaysia has yet to identify any Rohingya among the first nearly 1,500 people deported on Tuesday, community leaders told Al Jazeera. Instead, many are from Myanmar’s other ethnic minorities, who are more likely to have valid national identification documents, community leaders said.

“The Rohingyas are a problem for deportation because Myanmar denies their citizenship,” Raf said. “So I don’t think that Myanmar will agree and accept all those Rohingyas.”

Myanmar officially treats the Rohingya as Bangladeshi immigrants despite the community’s long roots in Myanmar and their distinct ethnic identity. The Myanmar army has repeatedly cracked down on the Rohingya minority, including a wave of violence in 2017 that many rights groups have described as genocide. It set off a major refugee crisis when hundreds of thousands of Rohingya fled to Bangladesh, Malaysia, India and other neighbouring nations.

Myanmar community leaders also said the raids this year appear to have targeted locations highlighted in anti-refugee videos on social media in which content creators filmed refugee-populated areas, portraying them as hubs of chaos. These videos have been shared thousands of times on platforms such as Threads, TikTok and Facebook.

Al Jazeera contacted the Immigration Department to verify the link between the videos and raids but had not received a response at the time of publication. Accounts that had posted and shared antirefugee sentiment also did not respond to requests for comment.

Decline in resources

The increase in hostilities towards refugees in Malaysia coincides with a sharp decline in the capacity of local and international aid groups to support them, especially since the closure of the United States Agency for International Development in July 2025.

In Malaysia, this severely shrank resources for organisations helping refugees with basic needs, such as healthcare, Quah told Al Jazeera.

“Then slowly, United Nations organisations were being defunded, and even within the UN High Commissioner for Refugees in Malaysia, they lost a lot of staff,” Quah said. The job cuts reflected global retrenchments by UNHCR last year.

The agency continues to struggle with a funding crisis, saying on Tuesday that it faces a $5.79bn funding gap and, as of July, has received 32 percent of the funds it needs this year.

In Malaysia, this has led to even less protection for refugees and higher rates of exploitation, Quah said.

“Even UNHCR cardholders are arrested and remanded for about 14 days [while the] cards are verified,” she said.

For instance, an asylum-seeking woman who had scheduled an appointment to meet UNHCR representatives this month was recently detained, and immigration authorities demanded a letter from the organisation to prove that she was an asylum seeker, Quah said.

Although UNHCR confirmed the woman was seeking asylum, she remains in detention, Quah said.

Ongoing violence in Myanmar

UNHCR and rights groups in Malaysia have urged the Malaysian government to stop the deportations as violence continues in Myanmar.

A day before Malaysia’s deportation of the refugees on Tuesday, an air strike by Myanmar’s military was reported to have killed at least 33 people in Rakhine state, the historical home of the Rohingya. The Arakan Army group said the victims included vendors, shoppers and pedestrians. In June, the UN said Myanmar’s military was responsible for more than 700 civilian deaths over a six-month election period that started in August last year.

The Human Rights Commission of Malaysia (SUHAKAM) said that while Malaysia is not a party to the Refugee Convention of 1951, the principle of nonrefoulement has become part of customary international law and Malaysia, therefore, is bound to abide by it. The principle protects people from being returned to a place where they face a real risk of persecution, torture or other serious harm.

Particular attention should also be given to children, SUHAKAM said, highlighting that Tuesday’s deportation included 27 children, some reportedly as young as eight years old.

“No child should be returned to danger. Their safety, dignity and best interests must come first,” it said.

Myanmar community leaders in Malaysia told Al Jazeera the ships that departed on Tuesday will arrive in Yangon on Sunday.

“After that, we will [learn] whether they are allowed to leave the port safely [or are detained],” said one community leader who requested anonymity due to the increase in violence towards refugees in Malaysia.

Still, even those who are allowed to leave the port may need to spend months or years in Yangon because it is unsafe to travel across the country, the community leader said.

Call for independent access

Rights groups further criticised the Malaysian government’s framing of the deportations as “voluntary”, saying individuals should have sufficient information about conditions in their home countries before making such a decision.

“While authorities say the returns are voluntary, those returned had been held in immigration detention. This raises serious questions about whether decisions to return were genuinely free and informed,” UNHCR Assistant High Commissioner for Protection Edem Wosornu said.

The Malaysian government said people were selected for deportation based on a list of names shared by the Myanmar government in an official diplomatic note.

“Such [a] ‘voluntary’ decision must be determined by an independent authority, such as the UNHCR, and not by the Immigration Department,” SUHAKAM said .

UNHCR told Al Jazeera that it was not involved in the latest return process and did not have access to the individuals concerned. “[We were,] therefore, not in a position to independently ascertain the voluntariness of their decisions to return,” it said.

“We continue to encourage the government to ensure that return processes include individual assessments, access to protection procedures and safeguards to ensure that any decision to return is free, informed and genuinely voluntary,” it said.

Malaysia registering refugees

The deportations come at a time when Malaysia is simultaneously positioning itself as welcoming to refugees and their needs.

In 2015, the Malaysian government launched a Refugee Registration Document (DPP) programme. On paper, it is supposed to help register refugees, giving them official documentation.

Raf welcomed the DPP as long as the registration and documentation of refugees in Malaysia leads to access to work, education and healthcare.

“If these three things are provided, I think that’s a good solution for temporary refugees staying here.”

But the Malaysian branches of Amnesty International and Asylum Access said the latest deportations raise profound concerns about the purpose of the DPP. The programme should not be used to fast-track unlawful deportations, the groups said in a joint statement.

*Name changed to protect the individual’s identity

Durban, South Africa – Bishop Raphael Bahebwa is in hiding, afraid he could be attacked for speaking out for the rights of foreigners in South Africa.

“I am in hiding now because they say they are going to kill me for speaking about the rights of foreigners,” he told Al Jazeera.

Bahebwa has lived in South Africa for 26 years, after arriving as a refugee from the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC).

In that time, he has watched antiforeigner sentiment flare repeatedly in the country he came to call home. But he says this year feels different.

A September 30 deadline declared by March and March, an anti-immigration movement that has led protests across South Africa this year, has renewed fears of violence among migrant communities.

The group has called for undocumented foreign nationals to leave South Africa and has warned of further demonstrations if its demands are not met.

For Bahebwa and other refugees in Durban, however, the distinction between documented and undocumented migrants offers little comfort. They say the hostility they experience on the streets rarely begins with a request to see their papers.

Fears of renewed violence

South Africa will hold local government elections on November 4, in a campaign in which migration has become an increasingly prominent political and social issue.

For months, Bahebwa was among hundreds of refugees and asylum seekers who slept on the pavement outside the Durban Refugee Reception Centre on Che Guevara Road.

Many were from the DRC and Burundi, with others from Uganda, Mozambique and Tanzania. They said they had fled their communities because they feared antiforeigner attacks.

They arrived outside the Department of Home Affairs (DHA) office seeking safety.

Instead, the pavement became their home.

For roughly four months, men, women and children slept outside, exposed to the elements and dependent on civil society organisations and volunteers for food and other necessities.

“It has been very tough,” Bahebwa said. “Never before have I experienced something like this.”

Some of the migrants told Al Jazeera that conditions became desperate. They described irregular access to food and medication and said one man who had tuberculosis died while living at the camp. Al Jazeera has not independently established the circumstances of his death.

The camp was also not far removed from the hostility its residents said they had fled.

On September 3, members of March and March confronted refugees and asylum seekers living outside the centre. Violence broke out, and police intervened. At least four people were reported injured.

At another protest days later, police officers stood between the two groups, forming a barrier as tensions rose.

March and March has described its mobilisation as a campaign against undocumented immigration, crime and deteriorating conditions in South African communities.

The group says the government’s response to immigration enforcement has been insufficient.

Its leaders have repeatedly rejected accusations that their campaign is xenophobic and insist their target is undocumented migration rather than foreign nationals generally.

Bahebwa said documented and undocumented migrants alike have been caught in the hostility.

Earlier this year, six refugees working in salons around Durban’s Warwick Street Market were beaten by men carrying sticks, according to public-interest news outlet GroundUp. Two were hospitalised.

Bahebwa said the migrants had also struggled to obtain help from the authorities after earlier attacks.

“Police said we can’t open cases because we are foreigners. We had nowhere to go,” he alleged. Police have not publicly responded to that specific allegation.

Nowhere obvious to return to

In mid-September, the government moved to clear the makeshift camp outside the refugee centre.

The refugees were given a choice: return to the communities they had fled or accept temporary accommodation at the Lindela facility in Gauteng, hundreds of kilometres from Durban. Lindela is a government-run immigration detention facility used to hold people facing deportation.

The choice divided them.

Some feared going to Lindela, a facility historically associated with immigration detention and repatriation. Others felt they could no longer endure life on the pavement.

On September 15, 274 people were transported by bus from Durban to Lindela. About 150 others chose to remain in Durban and began trying to find alternative accommodation.

For those who stayed behind, leaving the pavement did not resolve the problem that had brought them there in the first place.

Kafuti Muyumba, a small business owner from the DRC and a representative of the refugee community, said many were afraid to return to neighbourhoods where they had built businesses and lives.

People are afraid, he said. “Even the police allow March and March violence. They came with sticks and say we are attacking them,” Muyumba told Al Jazeera.

He said many refugees had lost their livelihoods during the months of upheaval and were now desperate to find accommodation.

“This is not the first time we are experiencing xenophobia,” he said. “In 2008 and then in 2015 we also experienced this.”

In 2008, xenophobic violence spread through townships and informal settlements, killing dozens and displacing thousands.

Further outbreaks of violence against foreign nationals followed in subsequent years.

For Muyumba, those memories make the rhetoric surrounding September 30 difficult to dismiss.

“We don’t trust the police. They are not being fair with us. Some of them are also saying we must go,” he said.

Police have said there are no plans to change their normal policing approach because of the September 30 deadline and that any protesters will be expected to remain within the law.

March and March said all it wants is for undocumented immigrants to leave the country and return home.

But Muyumba said returning to the DRC is not a viable alternative for many Congolese refugees.

“There is still war there,” he said.

A country tightening its borders

In response to ongoing protests, the South African government said it had intensified its immigration enforcement.

Between June 14 and August 20, authorities processed 86,596 foreign nationals for deportation and repatriation, according to the government’s Inter-Ministerial Committee on Migration.

Malawians made up the largest group, followed by Zimbabweans and Mozambicans.

Government data says 90 percent of those repatriated had entered South Africa illegally, while 95 percent were classified as having crossed the border outside official ports of entry.

The government says the operations form part of a broader effort to strengthen border management and enforce immigration law.

At the same time, officials have repeatedly warned private groups against taking immigration enforcement into their own hands.

March and March’s September 30 deadline has no legal authority. The government says common citizens cannot deport anyone from South Africa.

But deadlines do not need legal force to create fear, as was the case for an earlier deadline of June 30. For the refugees who spent months sleeping outside the DHA office in Durban, September 30 is another uncertainty layered on top of many others.

Some have been moved hundreds of kilometres away.

Others are trying to find new homes in the same communities they once fled. But among the migrants Al Jazeera spoke to, there is a shared anxiety that paperwork may offer limited protection when anger is directed first at being foreign.

Bahebwa has spent more than a quarter of a century in South Africa. For now, he says he is hiding and does not know what September 30 will bring.

“They are scapegoating us as foreigners,” he said. “It is not going to end on September 30. It has to do with the elections.”

Tulkarem, occupied West Bank – Hakim Mar’i spends his days lying on a single bed, his disfigured leg raised. The windows of Mar’i’s dilapidated apartment, his latest temporary shelter, are covered with old blankets. Unable to work, Mar’i has no money for electricity, so the blankets have to do. At night, his family lives in near darkness.

The apartment is just around the corner from mounds of rubble and gnarled iron structures that mark one entrance to the now-emptied Tulkarem refugee camp. For Mar’i and other Palestinians, the camp was a home once considered temporary. But now, even the physical structure – their home – that tied those generations together is gone.

The apartment is just around the corner from mounds of rubble and gnarled iron structures that mark one entrance to the now-emptied Tulkarem refugee camp. For Mar’i and other Palestinians, the camp was a home once considered temporary. But generations lived there, and now, the physical structure – their home – that tied his family together over the years is gone.

Impoverished, Hakim’s family is in disarray. With its debts mounting and its members facing another eviction, he said he has considered taking his life several times over the past year and a half.

Mar’i cannot afford treatment for his debilitating leg injury, which has developed severe infections. He said he sustained it while working as a labourer inside Israel in 2019. The wound worsened after Israeli soldiers severely beat him when they forced his family from the Tulkarem camp. Diabetes and other untreated conditions have piled on, but he is unable to pay for the needed medical care.

“This joint here is completely gone,” he said, gesturing at the swollen, blackened lower leg that prevents him from working.

“The medicine – by God, the medicine, I haven’t been able to get. My wife and kids tell me: get out travel. Go to America, Turkey – so I can the medical treatment I need… I’m a sick man.”

His mother, Salwa, sat beside him, less than a kilometre (0.6 miles) from their former four-storey home. She wept when asked about the family home that was built floor by floor after they were first displaced in 1948 from al-Khudayra, the Arabic name for Hadera, a city in Israel. “We really put a lot into that house,” she said.

After their removal, the Israeli military razed the Mar’i home so a road traversing the now-emptied camp could be built. “Seeing it destroyed was really painful for us – all of us,” she said.

It has been more than 20 months since Israeli forces emptied the Jenin, Tulkarem and Nur Shams refugee camps in a sweeping military operation in the northern West Bank, displacing tens of thousands of Palestinians whose families had already been refugees for three generations. Constantly renewed orders for a closed military zone now prevent their return.

Since January 2025, Hakim’s family has been forced to move four times. First, they fled to a converted youth centre before landing in a cramped apartment with their four children, all under 15.

Unable to pay rent, the family could see the landlord’s generosity run its course as this once-temporary housing arrangement now has no end in sight. Hakim owes money at the local shops for food he bought on credit. Some nights, the children eat at neighbours’ houses.

“I have children. I have food. I have drink,” he said. “My hands are empty. Nobody is with me. Nobody is standing beside me.”

‘We’re already at the brink’

The Mar’i family is among more than 33,000 Palestinians forcibly removed from the Jenin, Nur Shams and Tulkarem camps by Israeli forces in early 2025. This is the largest single episode of forced displacement in the West Bank since Israel’s occupation began in 1967, according to the United Nations agency for Palestinian refugees (UNRWA).

UN satellite imagery shows that 20 percent of all buildings across the three camps have been destroyed and another 28 percent are damaged.

“The level of destruction we are seeing is severe and unprecedented,” said Roland Friedrich, director of West Bank affairs for the UN agency for Palestinian refugees, UNRWA.

According to Friedrich, 85 percent of those displaced have no regular income after many lost jobs when the camps were emptied. More than 80 percent of residents are renting, an unfamiliar expense for families who never paid for housing or utilities inside the camps.

The closed military zone covering the camps is renewed every two months, Friedrich said, with no indication of when – or whether – residents will be allowed to return. “What we saw there is forced displacement,” Friedrich said. “The UN’s position is very clear: People have to be allowed to return. The camps must be rebuilt.”

Unlike after the 2000-2005 second Intifada when the Jenin camp was rebuilt, displaced families and UNRWA staff fear there is no return plan this time.

The Israeli military stated the camps were emptied for “operational security” in its effort to root out fighters from the camps. Friedrich worried the aim of the military operations is to “change the geographical expression of the Palestinian refugee issue”.

Now more than 20 months into what was meant to be an emergency response, funding shortages have left UNRWA unable to cover the vast needs of the displaced population. It has moved some operations to keep schools and basic health clinics functioning. With funds dwindling, the agency has shifted to a “targeted approach”, leaving thousands without support.

Friedrich pointed to a rise in gender-based violence linked to the economic strain on families and to growing depression and anxiety among displaced children observed by UNRWA’s psychosocial teams. “We’re already at the brink now,” he declared.

‘Everyone went their own way’

While Hakim’s displacement plays out in the shadow of the camp, the family of Khadija Zbeidat face their own imminent eviction on the outskirts of Tulkarem. They live in the neighbourhood of Dhinnaba, where sparse houses are interspersed with greenhouses. They are unable to afford a residence closer to the city centre.

As Khadija sat on a couch in the middle of the yard, her many children and grandchildren ran past a small patch of plants she has planted – one of her few remaining joys. “I love plants,” she said. “We had many flowers in our home in the camp. Having the plants here is all I have to feel like myself,” she told Al Jazeera.

Khadija, a widow, shares a tiny spartan room with nine family members, nearly all children, along with a small bathroom and a kitchen barely big enough for one person to cook in. A worn couch takes up one corner. The ceiling is peeling above it.

The room was given to them rent free by a relative of Khadija’s brother-in-law after they spent four months crammed into her daughter’s house with nine other people. “It got really cramped, the pressure on each other,” Zbeidat said. “And we became a burden too.”

Khadija’s family was displaced in January 2025 from the Tulkarem camp’s Haret al-Nadi section, a significant part of which has been destroyed, she said.

“The camp was excellent,” she said of their life before. “I swear, I wish they’d take us back. Everything was close to us, dear – … the closeness, that sense of belonging and the warmth, the company and the neighbours.”

The memories that she cherishes most dearly and that bring her to tears are of food: the stuffed grape leaves and the maamoul cookies made as a neighbourhood together for Eid. This year, there was none of it.

“Nothing. No cookies,” she said. “Nobody even had it in them to do anything any more. Everyone went their own way – scattered.”

Like the Mar’i family and others, they were not allowed to bring their belongings during their abrupt displacement. Some residents have since been allowed to retrieve belongings once or twice from their homes in the camps, but much of what they own remains left behind. Khadija’s daughter-in-law at one point returned to the ruins of the camp – at the risk of being shot – to retrieve a doll left behind that Khadija’s granddaughter Sandy would not stop crying about.

In Tulkarem, displaced families live either in the poorest areas closest to the camp, like the Mar’is, or on the cheaper outskirts, like the Zbeidats, remaining close enough to the health and schooling services that UNRWA still provides. But even a simple trip to buy groceries requires Khadija, who has no car, to travel 2km (1.2 miles).

At night, the family sits outside rather than in the stifling heat of the poorly ventilated room, watching Israeli military drones pass low overhead. “What to do? We’re used to seeing them, to having them around, to them raiding houses,” Khadija said. “It doesn’t matter any more.”

The military raids that always haunted life in the refugee camps have now come to wherever the displaced refugees have fled to. “We don’t feel safe,” Khadija said. “Nor the kids. It’s dangerous. When they want to go out somewhere, my heart stays busy until they come back.”

Waiting to be kicked out again

For months after the displacement, landlords, relatives and shopkeepers absorbed much of the shock, allowing families to stay for free or buy food on credit. But as the emergency stretches to almost two years now, that informal safety net is fraying. The pressure is felt particularly in economically moribund Tulkarem, where many families had relied on jobs inside Israel before Palestinian work permits were revoked after the Hamas-led attacks in southern Israel and the start of Israel’s genocidal war in Gaza in October 2023.

The owner of the property where Khadija’s family is staying recently sent his sister to tell Khadija’s family to leave. “They think it’s been too long,” Khadija explained. “They want the land, to benefit from the land and the room. … But where can we get money, where to pay from? The rent is very high, and we can’t afford it. We don’t know what to do if she comes again and kicks us out.”

Hakim’s family is on the brink of eviction too. Like others, he received from UNRWA a one-time rental subsidy of 3,000 shekels ($985) and a separate 1,700-shekel ($560) multipurpose cash payment for short-term assistance. “Every minute, I am waiting for the landlord to kick us out,” he said.

Khadija’s family survives on credit from shopkeepers who know their situation and, for now, still extend it – but patience is wearing thin.

Hakim said this goodwill is collapsing: “You tell them: ‘Give me a day, two days. Be patient with me.’ They won’t bear it.”

As distant as a return to her family’s lands in 1948 feels now, Khadija still hopes to return to the camp one day. But she worries that her children may inherit an even more precarious existence than the one that preceded this latest dispossession – refugees for generations displaced yet again. “Only God knows what tomorrow will bring us,” Khadija said.

If you or someone you know is at risk of suicide, these organisations may be able to help.